But, I Refuse
by ChaosGamer
Summary: "There isn't anything I, Suzushina Yuriko, love more than telling someone who thinks they're the top dog and saying 'No' straight to their face." CoffeeShipping.
1. The Zero, and The One

_"This power will one day make the world itself its enemy..._

_It may really destroy everything in this world one day..._

_However,_

_If you evolve beyond the mere concept of 'The Strongest', things may change._

_In order to do so, you will need to go through with this experiment."_

_"You have nothing to lose."_

_"Marmots._

_Dolls._

_Clones._

_If power breeds conflict,_

_Then you just need to attain Absolute Power that will deter any will to fight."_

...

...

...

"But, I refuse."

That was that beautiful girl's declaration of challenge toward the utter darkness deep within the city.

"–What!?"

"There isn't anything I, Suzushina Yuriko, love more than telling someone who thinks they're the top dog and saying 'No' straight to their face."

* * *

That was that beautiful girl's 'Ultimate Refusal'.

But, let us take a step back in time to see where it all began.

It was May, a year before the clash of Science and Magic would take place.

They were both in Third Year of Middle School.

Suzushina Yuriko.

A beautiful girl, with white hair and red eyes.

She wore a white blouse with a vest dyed in a shade of gentle violet. That vest had the emblem of Nagatenjouki Academy on its left side. Her pleated skirt was a shade of wonderful green olive. She carried a thin briefcase for her schoolbag.

And,

The same event that occurred before occurred again and again,

And occurred even right then and there.

"Hey, Accelerator."

"Hey, Accelerator."

"Hey, Accelerator."

...

...

...

She was surrounded.

There were about a couple of dozen or two men around her.

They weren't there to court her, as one may think. For one, it was past curfew in nighttime. For another, they held all sorts of assault weapons, from crowbars to bats to guns.

This is the part where she should flick her hair and spit out a line about how utterly dull this turn of events were for her at this point.

But, to be really honest... she still felt cold sweat break out from back of her head.

Not because they had any hope of touching her at all, not really. Her Reflection worked then and worked now. Her safety was not really a concern.

But beneath her weary countenance, she still felt unease. Her safety was too assured for her to consider that emotion she felt to be a form of fear, no... perhaps, it was a form of odious distaste. Or a form of revulsion. Or a form of repungnance. Toward whom? Toward them, and toward this unease within her.

She liked going outside.

She liked the wind gracefully touching her cheeks with a cool breeze. She liked the gentle warm rays of the sun, warming her body. She liked the pale glow of the moon, delighting her mind.

But she dreaded going outside precisely because this event occurred every single time.

She dreaded going outside and unavoidably being seen, and unavoidably being confronted by them. She dreaded being attacked by them, and them inevitably harming themselves to near point of fatality.

The first time it occurred, the first time she was attacked by a large group all at once, it resulted in them collapsing all around her with their bodies utterly broken. And she knelt right in the middle of them, clutching her chest, because it felt as if her heart would positively _burst_ from how strong it beat. Sure, anyone could readily assure her that that would not occur to someone as young and relatively healthy as her. But could she really rely on that assumption when her heart beat to the point where she felt like lava was being poured through her rib-cage? And all that from mere shock at being wrapped up in such a situation.

It got better as such events occurred again and again.

That should mean she would get used to it sooner or later, right?

She hoped so. As time went on the pain she felt – from her heart beating like a wild mare from panic – gradually lessened.

Her body got used to it, but not her mind, apparently, because she still felt relatively same amount of dread – at the thought of encountering such a group of people – right now as she did back then.

All because they wished to take her title, her position.

She was not a damsel in distress.

She was _the most powerful Esper in the Academy City._

Her rank was _One._ Not Two, not Three, _One._

A bitter smile graced her lips. She was trapped. Trapped. She couldn't purposefully job her encounters; the weapons and Esper abilities they approached her with were purposefully geared up to the most lethal level possible. 'If it is strong enough, it will break through her Reflection...' they hoped.

Her Reflection was designed to be binary from the beginning. It was not like she could dial it down a degree or two to let little slip by and injure her and throw the battle that way.

So the only recourse was to run away.

And so she ran away time and time again, at first. But they never stopped; indeed, it became worse. Maybe their hunting instinct became even more active at the sight of their target actively retreating from them. It was a waste of time and energy; last time, they shot homing missiles after her.

So it came down to this: she let them strike her, but redirected the vectors away from them both. Not in opposite direction, for example, but downward direction. If it avoided them both, they were left relatively unharmed. That seemed to be the most efficient solution.

But they all attacked her in all degrees of direction simultaneously... there were always one or two she couldn't actively protect against when they all attacked at once. A ricochet there, a shrapnel there; someone, at least one or two, came out injured from that encounter.

But surely better than all of them getting hurt! Ah, but there lied the rub; when they were unharmed, they pushed on their attack recklessly. Holding out only prolonged the struggle. And, y'know, it was getting way past curfew; she wanted to go home. She needed her beauty sleep.

So in each encounter, it went on until every single one of them got injured enough to conclude that they should probably retreat for the time being.

It really made her feel useless.

She was not a damsel in distress.

She was _the most powerful Esper in the Academy City._

But she was still a third year Middle Schooler. She was still human. When– well, let's take this current encounter, for example.

A man in a green beanie hat wearing sunglasses affirmed his grip on his metal bat and swung it at Yuriko's forehead.

Right when that cold steel of that metal bat went all the way up to her eyes, she felt her breath hitch; she felt her heart jump – that felt painful. That felt unhealthy.

Well, not as painful or unhealthy as to how that man's arms looked like after she redirected the vector of that swing downward.

_I hate this._

_I really, really hate this._

Day in, day out. If she ran, they would follow her. If she stood still, they would hurt themselves.

She couldn't step a single foot outside without this happening.

_When will this stop?_

_–Probably never._

That thought was a mistake. At the mere thought of her going through this over and over again for an uncertain period of time, with no end in sight, deep nausea flowed up from her stomach and traveled up to her throat, like an acidic oil. She felt like throwing up.

She felt miserable.

She continued to fix that bitter, bitter smile on her face as she braced herself for this encounter—

"—HEY!"

That voice still reached all of them despite the din of the massive struggle that only just began. Startled, they all turned toward that stranger who made such a shout–

–and their eyes landed on a young man with a spiky hair.

"You oughtta be all _ashamed_ of yourselves."

"What?" The men shouted back.

"Who the heck even are you!?"

"A whole group of guys just encircling a girl and attacking her like that. It's unforgivable. You guys are lower than dirt; you all disgust me."

...

...

...

What.

Now, hold on a minute here. Obviously, this boy was some sort of heroic type... but what was that rough edge to that attitude of his?

Two things surprised Yuriko at that moment. One, the fact that guys like him still existed, that someone was bold enough to interrupt this scene.

She never saw anyone actually intervene for her before.

Two, such guys, if they existed, were heroic, preaching type. Up until the first half of that sentence he yelled, it was fitting. 'A whole group of guys just encircling a girl and attacking her like that. It's unforgivable.' Sure, fine, fitting. But that second half... 'You guys are lower than dirt; you all disgust me.' What? That seemed off from the character he was possibly trying to emulate!

"If you're gonna assault someone, pick the right target!"

"Oh, like you, you twerp!?"

"Yeah! Bring it on!"

They all charged toward him.

Then,

He turned and ran.

"HEY! COME BACK HERE!"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?"

...

...

...

She was alone.

All alone. Finally, alone. Peacefully, quietly, alone.

That never happened before.

Her eyes were still widened with shock. Her mouth was agape.

"..."

This was the first time she was actually left alone.

...

Maybe she should chase them and help him out.

...

"—Eh, he seems capable." That pale beauty, Suzushina Yuriko, gave a half grimace, half smile. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

That was the first time they met.

* * *

From then on, things changed.

Every single time she was ambushed as thus, again and again did he inevitably appear to intervene, and again and again did he oddly piss off the mob enough for them to completely forget about her and end up chasing him instead.

"COME BACK HERE YOU SPINELESS COWARD!"

"IT'S SWING DAY!"

"MMMMMM BOY YOU'RE 'BOUT TO CATCH THESE HANDS-!"

"WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU I'M DROPPING YOU LIKE A 52 PICKUP, AIIGHT!?"

...

"AHHHHHHHHHHH! SUCH MISFORTUNE!"

...

How many times did this happen now? Fourth time?

_You know,_ Yuriko absentmindedly thought as – yet again – she saw the retreating backs of the mob chasing that certain unlucky boy, _maybe I should visit him with a gift, or something..._

* * *

_Huff,_

_Wheeze,_

_Cough,_

Such were the noises extruding from that Unfortunate Middle Schooler's mouth as he approached the door to his dorm room.

He somehow lost that mob again tonight. His heart and lungs felt like 18-Wheeler Engine Pistols.

"At this rate of exercise, I'll live until hundred-and-twenty..."

It was indeed odd though, Kamijou Touma thought to himself. This was like the fourth time he stuck up for that particular girl. Not that he minded doing that all that much, but it did sort of concern him as to just how many times she was being attacked. Was she a high level Esper or something?

Oh well, as long as she was unhurt...

As he opened the door he sighed in sweet anticipation of long-awaited rest from yet another weary day filled with misfortune.

Time to eat dinner, do homework, and go to sleep.

But it wasn't even five minutes since he entered his dorm room when he heard a knock on the door.

He broke out in cold sweat. Had the thugs finally tail him to his dorm room? But he was so sure that he escaped their sight–!"

That knock rang again.

"—Who is it?" Touma asked in trepidation.

"Just visiting," a feminine voice responded.

Touma frowned. A girl? When he opened the door, he found–

A beautiful, pale girl with red eyes, in what appeared to be a prestigious school's uniform, holding an eco-friendly shopping bag.

That same girl he intervened for multiple times now.

For a moment they both stared at each other, examining each other. They never were this close up in front of each other before.

_He really, really looks just... normal,_ Yuriko thought. _And yet..._

"Good evening," she greeted, with an awkward smile fixed on her face. She wasn't used to human interaction, all that much.

"Hey," Touma replied, still caught off guard. "You're that girl they kept on mobbing."

"Yeah. Saw you go into this building, so I decided to follow and give you a visit." She peered into his dorm room. "Can I get in, or..."

"-Oh. Sure."

As she went in she examined the entire dorm room

_Average home, average dorm, average... everything._ Yuriko thought. _Not sure what I expected, but still..._

"I hope you like coffee," Yuriko stated as she plopped the eco-friendly shopping back down on the floor. Sitting down, she pulled out two of her favorite: BLACK NON-SUGAR COFFEE.

"How do you have that?" Touma replied in amazement. "When I went to conbini yesterday to get some, they ran out of that brand!"

"They did?" Yuriko paused. "Ah, must've been because I bought every single one of them yesterday... sorry about that. Didn't know you liked these."

"Yeah, my favorite, actually," Touma smiled as he sat down also and popped one open.

"Is that so..."

As she drank, she continued to peer in mild-fascination at this unfortunate young man sitting before her. She didn't know why, but despite appearing painfully average, there was something about his countenance that continued to hold her interest.

...

"Why do you do that?" She finally asked, lowering the coffee can from her lips. "No one ever intervenes for me. No one is idiotic enough to. So why do you? You don't even know me."

He paused at that question.

...

"Because that's the right thing to do," he replied.

"Is that so..." she half-grimaced. "Well, your funeral, I suppose..."

They drank in silence some more.

"You can keep the rest," Yuriko announced as she dusted herself off and stood up. "My gift to you..." she paused. Then continued: "I can take more than good enough care for myself, you know; they never touched me."

"Yeah, I was wondering about that," Touma replied as he also stood up. "I've never seen a display of violence to that level before. Are you famous or something?"

...

_Should I tell him?_ Yuriko wondered.

Well, she supposed it couldn't hurt. Maybe it would convince him not to waste his time trying to protect her so much.

"My name is Suzushina Yuriko," she announced, "otherwise known as the Accelerator. I am the Number One Esper of this City."

...

"Hoh, really now?" Touma chuckled as he scratched the back of his head. "I guess that does explain all that."

"That is why there's no need to try to intervene for me again. They threw everything they had against me since I was a little girl. _I've never been touched._"

"I suppose so,' Touma replied, smiling. "But, you know, I don't protect someone only because they need protection. I don't fight villains because they're bad. I fight them because _it's the right thing to do._"

...

_This guy..._

Yuriko, yet again, half-grimaced.

"What level are you?" She asked.

"Oh, I guess I should properly introduce myself. My bad." Touma grinned. "My name is Kamijou Touma. I'm a Level 0."

Zero.

"Zero," Yuriko repeated.

"Zero," Touma nodded.

"With that sort of guts, I would've expected you to be at least Level Three or something..." Yuriko gave an unimpressed look.

"You don't need power to fight for something you believe in."

"No, you do." Yuriko flatly retorted. "Without power, you can do _nothing._"

"..."

"I'm going to have to ask you not to intervene for me again," Yuriko continued. "It'd be rather pointless if you were to get hurt yourself."

"Sorry," Touma smiled. "But, _I refuse._"

"..."

"As long I see someone living their life incorrectly in front of me, no other choice remains for me but to clench my fists and drive it into their face repeatedly until they correct themselves."

This... was much more serious than she thought.

At this rate, he really would follow her around and intervene Every. Single. Time whenever she got ambushed.

Well, she tried to use words and reason first, too, when she was young. She made desperate pleas to those who attacked her to not bother, to simply leave her be.

Not that it was of much use. Force did the talking when words failed.

And, perhaps, force was necessary here, also.

"Touch me."

"What?"

"Touch me." Yuriko raised her arms up, her hands fully open. "Touch me, anywhere, my face, my chest, my arms, my hands, wherever. If you can touch me, then you'll be proving to me that you are strong enough to intervene for me, that you'd be too strong for me to tell you what to do and not do. So go ahead and touch me."

_So, what'll it be, Hero?_ Yuriko thought to herself. _My right hand? My left hand? What'll it be?_

There was no hesitation in his movement.

That Average Middle School Boy anyone can find anywhere raised his right hand and _touched her left hand._

He grabbed it, and held it.

...

...

...

_Did I... subconsciously... turn off my Reflection?_

Proportionate to the level of force used, his right hand should've been repelled from any part of her arm, leg, chest, entire body. If lightly approached, then lightly repelled. If forcefully approached... than that's when bones began to fracture.

_If I did... then it's just the matter of turning it on again._

But nothing happened.

His hand felt warm.

So warm.

She felt a blush creep up on her pale cheeks.

Touma, for his part, felt nothing out of norm. "So... I did it," he declared.

...

"You lied." Yuriko frowned.

"..."

"You said you had no powers."

"No," Touma gave a determined look. "What I said was, I am a Level 0. That is what they labeled me as in the System Scan. I didn't say I had no powers. I said, _You don't need power to fight for something you believe in._"

...

"Then, what is your power?"

"My right hand... it can destroy any illusions, any supernatural ability. And, I suppose even the highest ranked Esper in this city is not immune to it."

...

...

...

Just like that, her Reflection was broken. Just like that, he made null and void that very power that made her so miserable like it was some sort of bad joke.

...

"I see." Yuriko, yet again, gave a half-grimace. She looked toward their hand, still linked together. "...You can let go now."

"Oh, sorry."

A silence fell between them.

"Well..." Yuriko, with effort, mustered an unimpressed look. "Bye for now." She turned to leave.

"I'll see you next time," he replied.

"I suppose I can't stop you."

She opened the door, and left.

She looked calm on the outside.

But on the inside, her head was a whirlwind of emotions and questions.


	2. The Two, and The Spy

"What a beautiful sunset."

A brilliant shade of red washed all over the skyscrapers.

Walking along the road among the verdant trees was Suzushina Yuriko, that girl with white hair with white flower on the side of her head.

The entire world seemed to be under a differently colored light after her encounter with that boy with that right hand of his, the only hand that appeared to ignore that Reflection barrier around her with impunity.

If only she met him earlier... perhaps she wouldn't have been such a loner as she was now.

If only he was that child whose arm she accidentally broke years back then. Then perhaps, that injury wouldn't have occurred, and she wouldn't have faced against armies and tanks and helicopters on that same day.

All these years, she thought the world was such a simple place, where the hostilities formed between individuals who were unable to understand each other due to either unintentional or deliberate indifference would permeate into their daily lives and stagnate unto this very day. Until that encounter, it really did appear to her that it would be difficult to almost impossible for her to live a regular life, and that she would have to actively avoid public places and daylight in order to avoid being noticed.

But that was not true... the world was an enormous and enormously wild place; it now seemed to her that the world was, well, a world seemingly capable of producing varieties of nigh-infinite varieties. If more unusual, irregular people like him existed, then perhaps... she still had that chance to live a normal life, filled with carefree happiness.

More people like him...

People like him...

Like him...

Like...

...

"–Here we go again," Yuriko muttered, while watching a mob of punks with bats and crowbars approach her.

She didn't even want to hear their voices this time; she redirected all sound vectors away from her ears, to completely deafen herself. She would've closed her eyes too, if she wasn't so focused on trying to prevent those good-for-nothing punks from hurting themselves.

But, before they could even descend upon her, a white tornado of _feathers_ filled her vision.

"–Here we go _again_," Yuriko muttered again, as she directed her vision upward, reluctantly turning off her sound redirection.

From the sky, descending like an angel, with heavy-metal riff in the background, was a teen with a dirty-blond hair and maroon suit with _six white feathered wings behind his back._

The punks that attempted to mob her yet again were all blown in every direction imaginable, their screams drowned out by the helicopter-esque winds generated by those white wings. If this was the first time it occurred, she would've actually remarked such aesthetic with interest, but...

"Accelerator!" Kakine Teitoku declared with a voice far-gone from room-level volume, "I am your _Second Plan!_"

Whatever that even meant.

"Hard pass..." Yuriko mumbled, with a full grimace.

In the corner of her vision, she spotted a man in spiky outfit, blown away by the Dark Matter Wind, about to crash into a parked truck. With one flick of her wrist she generated a condensed gust of wind that hit that flying man and changed his flight trajectory; he then instead crashed into the top of a nearby tree, his fall cushioned by leaves and branches.

"Honestly," Yuriko sighed, "I told you to be careful of casualties."

"My apologies," Kakine gave a graceful smile as he lowered himself from the sky and stepped upon the ground. "I know how my fair Suzushina-san, from the depths of her beautiful heart, has this magnificent, magnanimous concern for every single one of those peons. That one man I missed, but the others, they were not harmed from their fall like before."

_I can't with this guy... I really don't want to deal with him right now..._

Her silent objection went unheeded; Kakine was already bent on one knee: "For you:"

Kakine held out an unnaturally white bouquet of flowers.

"Dark Matter Blossoms. Only one of its kind blooms every year."

"Funny," Yuriko deadpanned. "This is like the eighth time I'm given this exact same type of flower this year."

"For you, my fair lady, it blooms every day."

"Of course it does."

She still took it anyway. As annoying she found him to be, she didn't have it in her heart to leave him hanging when he was offering something to her. Not that those flowers lasted past a day or two before dissipating...

She would've found all this cute, if it was like once or twice, but now...

Honestly, things were much simpler when he was attempting to surpass her in some way shape or form, be it be in combat or Underground activities, in order to become the Main Plan instead of being the Spare Plan he was right now. Not better, but simpler. Obviously, however, he changed his mind when he landed his eyes on her and now merely chased her around anyway...

"Have you had dinner yet? I'll buy today."

"–I'm good."

It was nothing complex; she just wasn't... into him, all that much. He wasn't a particularly a bad person; she could think of plenty worse individuals, but his activities in Dark Side Underground still irked her, nevertheless.

"Are you perhaps worried about being interrupted by those peasants? No worries; I'll single-handedly keep them all at bay."

"–It's fine, really."

As if... Yuriko could already imagine the possible havoc that could break out in result. No restaurant deserved that.

"Unyielding as ever..." Kakine chuckled.

At the very least, he brought out the best of his personality when he was chasing after her; or, at the very least, when she was in earshot. More than one could hope to ask for, Yuriko thought.

"I know you're busy, and all that..." Kakine continued. "But I had another thing to inquire to you about, actually."

...Why was he getting serious now, of all places?

He paused, evidently attempting to clear his thoughts. He brought his hand to his chin in contemplation.

_Isn't this suspenseful,_ Yuriko half-grimaced.

"–How do you feel about power, Suzushina-san?" Kakine became even more serious, if possible.

Power?

"It's... useful, I suppose," Yuriko replied. "After all, _what is a man without power? Without ability?_"

Now Kakine grimaced in turn. That evidently wasn't the response he was hoping for.

"To what lengths would you go to gain more power?" Kakine then asked in a low tone of voice.

"Don't know how to answer that without any specifics. More power the better, I suppose."

_What's his deal?_ Yuriko complained to herself. _He desires power himself, does he not? I know his greed for power as well as anyone else. Is he suddenly caresome about morality, now?_

"Power... may not be as useful as you think it is." There was now hints of desperation in his voice. "Your power, to be frank, was what made you so isolated from others as you are now."

"Isolation isn't fun, sure. But who are you to tell me how I should feel about the results that were brought forth due to my own ability?" Yuriko frowned. "You're not naïve, Teitoku. Why are you suddenly acting this way?"

"..."

Some seconds followed before he responded. "If you were given a proposition in some sort of... _project,_ to increase your powers further, you would, then, accept?"

"You don't seem to get it, so let me spell it out for you," Yuriko snapped. "A man is only as good as his power. Take a girl of my stature, as example. Pick up any newspaper you can find anywhere in Japan, and read it up. _Women like me are physically lacking in strength. Women are often molested and harassed, in public, in private, in trains, in homes, in school, in family, in workplace, in society, **all precisely because they lack power to resist.**_ Do I care that I became so isolated from others? Sure. Is it worth it for this sort of power? _Yes._ Would I do more to gain more power? _Yes._" Blood rushed to her pale face. "_Every single time I set a foot outside I am harassed, over and over and over and over._ I'm tired of it; I'm sick of it. They can never touch me, they know that they can never touch me, but they attack anyway. Do you know why? _Because they are __all __still under the impression that it is a plausible idea to challenge me._ That's why they still try, and why they will continue to try. Such is human will. This harassment still occurring _just means that I am not as strong as I can be,_ yet. The only logical conclusion is that I need to become even more stronger than I am now, so that even the mere _idea_ of challenging me doesn't enter their heads. So yes, if I can gain more power, than I will do so. That answers your question. Look- just what's wrong with you!?"

Indeed, Kakine's face became even paler than the Dark Matter Blossoms she was still holding.

"Yuriko-san..."

_Already going for the first-name basis, huh..._

Silence fell between them.

...

"–I'm sorry," Yuriko clutched her head. "I think I went too far with my words. But I'm sure you get what I mean-"

"I get it," Kakine interrupted. "It's just that... well..."

His struggle to convey what he wished to convey without actually conveying it, was, well, immense.

He went on, nevertheless: "Hear me out here–"

"Neh, well, if it isn't Yuriko-chan!"

They both turned around to see a blond teen with sunglasses with a green floral shirt and sports shorts walking up toward them, hands in pockets. Gold chains were around his neck. A true delinquent, even among many Yuriko saw before.

"Motoharu," Yuriko muttered.

"Oh? Teitoku-kun as well!" Tsuchimikado raised his arm in greetings. "Yosu!"

Kakine grimaced in response. "Good afternoon."

"Heard some dulcet tones while walking by!" Tsuchimikado grinned. "What's the hubbub? Ah," his glance fell on the flowers that were in Yuriko's hand, "another rejection, eh, Teitoku-kun?"

"Our conversation took a serious turn, actually," Kakine replied.

Tsuchimikado, sensing the flow of the conversation, and to what it really pertained to, became sober as well. "So, have you...?"

Kakine shook his head.

Then they both turned their intense gaze upon Yuriko.

"What is with you two!?" Yuriko snapped, her glare intensifying. To her, all conversation ought to be One-Way Road, forward, direct. She hated beating around the bush. "_If a man has something to say, he should just say it._ So spit it out."

_If only __it__ was that simple..._, they both thought in turn.

"Well," Tsuchimikado first broke the ice. "Enough about that. Yuriko-chan, I heard you finally met our residential Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl a week or two ago. I heard you even visited him in his apartment! So how was it? How's our Kami-yan?"

"Not that Kamijou!" Kakine gnashed his teeth in vexation. "Curses! As if I wasn't having a hard enough time!"

"...It was okay," Yuriko mumbled, lowering her gaze.

"ANOTHER ONE!" Tsuchimikado cried aloud while clutching Kakine's shoulder in sheer, well, drama. "HE GOT ANOTHER ONE! OH, TEITOKU-KUN!"

"THAT BASTARD!" Kakine roared in anger. "I'LL SMOTHER HIM!"

"LOOK AT HER FACE, TEITOKU-KUN; LOOK AT HER FACE! THAT PURE MAIDEN'S HEART IS ALREADY FILLED WITH THOUGHTS TOWARD HIM–!"

"AHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGHHHHGHGHGHGH–"

The six white wings burst forth from his shoulder again and danced in fury.

"–GHGHGGHGHGHGHH–"

"OH, THE HUMANITY!" Tsuchimikado slammed his fists on the ground while Kakine in turn throttled the air. "Oh! This is terrible!" Tsuchimikado sobbed. "Is _no girl_ immune to that Kami-yan Disease!? Can somebody please- GET FUKIYOSE SEIRI SO THAT WE CAN MAKE A SENSE OF ALL THIS!" Tsuchimikado chocked on his tears: "WHERE IS FUKIYOSE-CHAN!?"

"...Total idiots," Yuriko grit her teeth in frustration, her grip on the blossoms tightening. "If that's all you have time for, I'm leaving."

"No- okay- we're sorry," Tsuchimikado chuckled as he wiped a tear from his eye. "It's just... I was wondering when you two would meet each other. I'm very interested to see where that goes from here on out. This guy over here," he gestured his thumb toward Kakine, "met him couple of months ago, actually. Definitely changed some things around for him."

Ah.

"So here I thought you turned a new leaf after you began to chase after me..." Yuriko raised her eyebrow. "But as it turns out, it was merely that hero's influence on you, instead."

"More influence than yours?" Kakine gasped, "never!"

"I'd say it's a good thing, but... truth be told... I'm jealous." Yuriko pouted.

Just to mess with him.

Yeah.

Totally.

Hundred percent.

Yet again did the six wings come out and attack the air with all its fury, with Tsuchimikado roaring in laughter.

By now, the sun had almost set. Last rays of red showered over them.

"Well, I'm out of time... time to go," Yuriko turned around.

"Suzushina-san," Kakine attempted once more.

She paused, but did not turn around.

He crafted his words carefully. "Any plan, any _project_ designed by the Academy City in order to increase your power even further..." Kakine swallowed. "...Can't be good for anyone. I ask you to refuse them."

"..."

"You are plenty strong enough for me, Suzushina-san. You're the strongest that I know."

...

"Sorry," Yuriko sighed. "But that's my decision to make, not yours."

"..."

And, with that, she walked away.

Uncertainty raged within Kakine's mind. He took a hesitant step toward her, but–

"Let her go, Teitoku-kun."

Tsuchimikado's gaze from behind his shades were penetrating, especially at a critical moment such as this.

"It's her decision to make. We did our best. Just hope that... she makes the right one."

"If it was about myself, I'd grab any chance to gain more power," Kakine groaned. "But... I don't know why, but when it comes to her... _I don't want to see her becoming a monster._"

_He really did change,_ Tsuchimikado silently remarked to himself. _Not only from Kami-yan's influence, but from her influence as well..._

* * *

**Well, that was intense!**

**But, get ready for:**

* * *

**Suzushina Yuriko: Omake! #1!**

* * *

Suzushina Yuriko is the highest ranking Esper in the Academy City. In terms of grades and intellect and ability prowess, she is unmatched. In her school, Nagatenjouki Academy, she is educated in a solitary class; a privilege held only by select few. She had no concern in terms of money due to Research Scholarships she was immensely provided with.

But, even a gifted prodigy such as her had to fulfill certain civic requirements for graduation... namely...

"...Volunteer Work?" Yuriko raised her eyebrow.

So there she was, manning the conbini store she usually frequented to buy her favorite black coffee.

It wasn't so bad, Yuriko concluded. Most people were polite, and she got to drink and eat some stuff on the house...

But then, a man in a ski-mask entered the conbini and pulled out a gun. He then pointed his gun at Yuriko and roared at the top of his lungs:

"THIS IS A STICKUP! REMOVE ALL CASH AND HAND'EM OVER!"

...

"I refuse," Yuriko deadpanned.

...

Behind that ski-mask, that man's eyes twitched. "What!?"

"I said, I refuse," Yuriko snapped. "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. But you're not getting single yen from me."

_What's with her guts!? Is she immune to bullets or something!?_

The robber, instead of shooting bullets, now sweated bullets.

"..."

In the end, the robber left the store empty-handed.


	3. The Beginning

Coffee...

He needed coffee.

Opening the industrial fridge, he took out a flask, twisted its cap open, and drank from it.

Mmm... black. No sugar. No caffeine. Just... pure bitterness, in liquid form.

He liked his coffee just like how he liked his life: bitter.

Then, he felt a tug on his lab-coat.

He looked down and saw a little pale girl with white hair and red eyes, wearing a plain, grey research subject outfit, tugging upon the bottom of his lab-coat.

He examined her... well, being, a moment or two before taking his flask and wordlessly turning away from her and walking away, not even pretending to notice that little girl.

But that obnoxious brat seemed to not take the hint...

She continued to follow him like a lost puppy all the way across multiple lab-rooms. As far as he was concerned, that little girl might as well had been a fly buzzing around him; that was about the amount of significance he assigned to her, anyhow. Even still, she continued to follow him around.

It came to a point where he considered punting her with a football kick; the only thing that held him back from doing so was him reminding himself that she was just a mere child.

"She seems to have taken a liking to you, Amata-san."

Amata turned around to see another researcher with a mug in her hand.

_Shoulder-length black hair... I've seen this researcher before. What was her name again...?_ Amata wondered. _Chatted with her couple of times before... ah, who even cares._

"You know this brat?" Amata grunted. "Then take her away."

"I do know her, yes," the researcher replied, "even had her as a research subject, some time back. But I'm not sure who has taken her into their research nowadays. It might even just be that she's roaming around aimlessly around here, since no one else is willing to deal with her."

Amata's eyebrows threatened to reach into his hairline. "What are you even talking about?" Roaming around? No one 'taking' her in?

The researcher in response turned her head toward the little girl in question, who continued to stand still, quiet as a mouse. Then she replied:

"This girl is _Suzushina Yuriko_."

"..."

Then did Amata turn his gaze upon that little girl as well, probing her appearance with his eyes, dark as... well, that coffee that he was drinking. "_This_ is Suzushina Yuriko? That monster those losers wouldn't shut up about?"

"Yes."

So what she was telling him was... this little brat was that infamous monster whom everyone tried to have as their research subject. Hilariously enough, every researcher who was able to secure her for their research purposes ended up quitting on her altogether due to stress and sheer fright they were overcome with upon attempting to perform their research upon her. From what he had heard, no one lasted more than two months with her.

"You don't seem particularly... unnerved about her." Amata took a sip from his flask.

"Others stay away from her, but, personally, I see nothing wrong with her." She gave a gentle smile to that little girl.

"Oh? Good for you. Could you do me a favor, actually?" Amata took another sip. "Take her and lift her up into your arms for a moment."

After a moment of uncertain pause, she did so. That little girl did not resist.

"_Beau_tiful," Amata gave a chilling grin. "Well, I'll see you later." He walked away.

"...When should I put her down?"

He didn't even bother to turn his head around. "After I leave this hallway."

"–?"

"Can't really follow me when she's up in the air, can she?"

He stepped into his office, and slammed the door shut.

Then he locked the door, for a good measure.

* * *

Complete invulnerability... that was the common conclusion of multiple reports Amata held in his hand at that moment. Nothing could get past her barrier, according to what they all tried. Solids, liquids, gases, nothing...

Tossing the file in his hand onto his desk, Amata grabbed the bridge of his nose and inhaled, thoughts running through his head. Truth be told, he found that little girl irritating. He didn't like children and youths at all in the first place, but he found her especially loathsome on the first glance. But that blasted ability of hers... it was too good to pass up... already could he feel multiple ideas popping up in his mind...

It's been hours since he was in this room.

He needed more coffee.

Standing up, he approached the door to his office and began to open it. It's been hours since he was in here; that girl must be elsewhere by now.

Well,

He was wrong.

Sitting and waiting while leaned against the hallway wall directly next to his door was that detestable brat. Upon hearing the door open she looked up and stared at him. He stared back.

Then he gave a sigh.

Ignoring her, he walked on ahead.

And, of course, she followed right behind him.

Well, whatever, he decided. Might as well. He was interested in her ability now, anyhow.

Instead of walking toward more coffee, he headed to another room instead. One with a single table and two opposing chairs, with one solitary bulb of light above it. He entered and turned on that bulb of light.

"Sit," Amata jerked his chin toward the empty chair.

Yuriko obeyed and sat.

Walking around to the opposite end Amata sat down as well. Then he took out a tape recorder and placed it on the middle of the table.

"This," Amata grunted, "is a formal interview, done before any research takes place... it's very simple. I ask, you answer, and we're done. This is just for formality's sake, so keep up and get it over with."

Well, that wasn't exactly true. He had the summary of general events in her life history on their database, but hearing the precise details from the research subject themselves was important, both to the research process and to the satiation of his curiosity.

Amata narrowed his gaze on her. "You _are_ able to speak, I'm guessing. Say 'yes'."

"...Yeah," Yuriko replied in a timid tone.

"Alright." Amata picked up his pen and began: "State your name."

"Suzushina Yuriko."

"State your age."

"Age ten."

"How did you come to Academy City?"

Yuriko tilted her head, twisting her lips. "...I don't remember."

She probably did not. She was a Child Error, after all.

"State the very first memory you can think of."

"..."

Her little face made various different expressions as she attempted to answer this unexpected question.

"Oh for-" Amata snapped, then barely stopped himself from swearing. He was impatient, but not to that point... yet. "The first meal you remember eating. Hanging out with your fellow detestable kids. Going on a field trip. Just get this question over with."

"–I don't know," Yuriko half-grimaced. "All my first memories are... me sitting in a classroom, alone, away from others. They said it was because of the importance of my ability."

...

"–First memory: Lessons in classrooms," Amata muttered while jotting something down. He continued on:

"So, lessons, alone. State what happened next."

"–?"

"Go in chronological order," Amata sighed. "Did you continue to stay in that facility? Did you move? List every significant change in settings."

"...It pretty much stayed that way until few months ago," Yuriko recounted, her eyes cast downward. "I tried to meet others and make friends... but it all ended up being..."

Her face paled, despite her skin already being paper white.

_Few months ago... that ought to be that one incident where..._

He heard about it when it first occurred. He even reviewed recording footage from the database just today, actually, in order to gain more insight into the entire situation. This little girl somehow made a joke of even military grade weaponry.

"–where... what?" Amata grunted. "I don't have all day. Spit it out."

She merely gave a pained smile, and gave a small shrug.

"–A waste of time, as I thought." Amata grimaced as he reached out to turn the tape recorder off. "Though, it is a mere formality, as I said. To sum it up, you broke a classmate's arm. You then broke the teachers who tried to intervene. You then broke the adults who tried to get involved. Then you broke the Anti-Skill, then you broke the unmanned Helicopters, then you broke... well, so on and so forth. Broken lines... broken strings... you broke _everyone_." Amata gave a bark-like laugh. "You _really_ are something else. Look–" Amata cut in before Yuriko could speak, surprised at the fact that he knew already, "I told you, that was just for formality. So this is my next question to you..."

Amata leaned back and placed his hands on the back of his head.

"With that sort of invincible power, why do you even stay in this research facility? Do you actually _like_ this s–" he stopped himself from swearing... again. She's still just a kid, he told himself... just a kid... "–place? I don't."

"–?"

"Y'know, like... just, break out," Amata shrugged. "Break out, and turn anyone here that tries to stop you into–" he paused, "–well, whatever. Do what you want. Literally no one here can stop you. H–" he paused, "–Heck, you can even start with me. Just barrel right through me. Is it hot out? Reflect the heat. Is it cold out? Reflect the cold air. Do you need food? Just break into stores. Don't think too hard on this."

She looked positively bewildered at his words at this point.

Amata sighed. It was getting progressively difficult trying to censor himself like this. Usually, when he got long-winded, that's when he began his usual practice of peppering his speech with expletives, but in front of a kid... man, was it ever a pain. "Do you think I'm joking here? _You can break out right now if you want to._ So what's stopping ya?"

Yuriko, with a face filled with uncertainty at this unusual turn of questioning, attempted to string together a response. "I-I..."

"You don't want to," Amata cut in, becoming more and more impatient. "Why not?"

"I..."

Yuriko averted her gaze to the side.

"I... don't want to... hurt people."

"–Ain't that a shame, because your power says otherwise. They attempted to assault you before and they will continue to try to assault you over and over again. There will be no end to this. _So what will you do?_"

Yuriko's lips quivered.

This step, and the response she would give to this summarizing question, was, in Amata's opinion (which of itself was wholly concerned almost solely of scientific process), integral in determining the most optimal direction to take in the research he would perform with her as the subject.

Esper power, in essence, originates from one's Personal Reality. Espers were those who – quite literally – rejected the present reality and substituted it with their own version, interpretation, or even fantasy, illusion of the reality, the given events. The ability depended on the personality, and the personality in turn is morphed and shaped by how one chose to use the ability. Which, then, comes first? The ability, or the personality?

Wasn't that the question of the day.

It all came down to the personality of the research subject and how that personality of theirs affects the decisions they chose to make with their abilities. Depending on the values they input and set into their Personal Reality, their ability had multiple different forms to chose to take shape from.

As he currently saw it, this Suzushina brat focused her ability on her Reflection. Her response, to assaults of hostility by others, was to merely reflect them, to reflect their hostility right back at them. That response was, indeed, simple and predictable, but at the same time it provided a profound look within her personality.

As kind and polite she appeared on the surface, and as young as she was – as children are merely human beings whose minds were not yet dyed by the dark ink of this world, her Reflection ability – funnily enough – served to reflect her true (well, then again, what was 'truth'? He lacked a better word here) personality: that of the ol' adage: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. 'Do you dare to strike me? Be stricken in return'... that basically summed it up.

If she had a different outlook, a different direction she chose to take her personality toward– or... perhaps, she merely lacked creativity on this particular department, regarding that of human interaction (perhaps she was asocial; perhaps she found human company disagreeable)... yes, that seemed to be an explanation closer to the truth: it's not that she lacked kindness, but it merely was that she found human interaction something that wasted too much effort while producing no clear results. Proper social etiquette is not something that one realizes innately, on their own. Scraps and pieces of proper way to behave as a human being are perhaps possible to learn on one's own, but a more or less complete version of the knowledge of proper etiquette needed to function as a regular person in modern society? That was no easy feat, to learn that on one's own. Those had to be explicitly taught. But that took time and effort no one bothered to place upon this girl; she had no parent in her upbringing, being a Child Error as she was, and once they realized the potential of her powers the very first thing they did was to take her away from others and chuck her in solitary learning environment... dunces. Such was perhaps necessary to further promote her growth, in the name of science... but... ah, who even cared. He certainly didn't.

If only she had proper parents. If only she had proper peers. If only she had more than usual interest in human interaction (maybe she does, who knows. She was still ten) which would have encouraged her to learn more about complex sets of directions on proper social behavior on her own initiative... than perhaps the current situation would have been drastically different.

See, merely redirecting incoming attacks right back at them in the exact opposite direction... how simple and idiotic was that? No creativity. No subtlety. Sure, that method used up the least amount of mental resources, but... that move was just so easy to _counter_. In fact, he already thought up of a way to counter that move, right now, actually.

If she was just a little bit more creative, more socially adapt, then she would have had different values inputted and set into her Personal Reality, _and she would have already come up with multiple ways to deal with incoming attacks without causing harm to either her or her attacker._ As it was, he couldn't tell if this entire mess was tragedy or comedy. But... ah, who even cared. He certainly didn't.

"I don't want to hurt others."

That jolted him out from his contemplation. He refocused his gaze upon the girl, who now had a determined expression set upon her face.

"I don't want to hurt others," she repeated, "but I hurt others anyway because I couldn't control my powers. If I don't have control over my powers, I'll be continuing to hurt others... and I can't control my powers if I can't control my emotions. So I should stop displaying my emotions. That's why I don't resist– that's why I don't resist being... here."

She paused.

"But I don't think that's enough; they'll keep on coming after me anyway, despite me hiding my emotions. So I just... have to get more power. I just have to get stronger until they don't... come after me anymore. When they think there's no point, they will stop going after me. I think... that'll do it."

"...Hoho!" Amata's grin threatened to tear into his cheeks. "Is that so?"

This... this was fine. The girl was determined to go deeper into the set of tracks she was currently riding upon. Let her go thus...

...He'll see what happens to her.


	4. Back to the Present

Knee-length black velvet strap dress.

That was the outfit that beautiful girl, Suzushina Yuriko, wore at that moment.

Though, upon some reflection, she felt that her pale marble shoulders were too revealed by that outfit... so in addition, she also wore a white blouse underneath that dress.

Without that white blouse, she would've fit perfectly within a Michelin star restaurant.

But, with that additional white blouse underneath, she gave up points on appearing to have Refined Tastes, but gained points on looking like a Sensible, Well-rounded young lady.

Well, not that she was all that focused on her current outfit, at that moment.

At that moment, she was rather more preoccupied with this... curious sight in front of her.

...

**"CHASER!"**

_Crash!_

From half a block away, she witnessed that High Class Ojou-sama perform that merciless roundhouse kick to that poor vending machine.

The said machine subsequently spit out couple of drinks.

"..."

"Strawberry Oden... you've gotta be kidding me," that Ojou-sama gave that petulant complaint as she walked away.

"..."

"Theft in broad daylight..!" Yuriko mumbled with disconcerted gaze.

Well... anywho.

It was just a juice or two at the end of the day.

At that moment, she was rather more preoccupied with other thoughts.

...

As agreed upon by the conversation she had with him the day they met, that average boy, Kamijou Touma, continued to intervene for her whenever the occasion arose.

His timing was rather too accurate to not arouse suspicion... but she highly doubted that he was a sort of a person to put a GPS tracker on her. Who knew? Maybe finding Damsel in Distress was his – yet Level Zero – Esper ability.

But as time went on, as she met him again for a number of times in the streets for some time, she saw that she was not the only one.

She was not the special case. He _seemingly appeared to do that to pretty much any girl residing in this city._

(What made it all the more, how should she say, vexing, was that, despite him rescuing any girl he came across, he didn't even seem to view them in terms of gender...

...Most likely, rather, he viewed people in another binary terms: to punch, or not to punch?)

She gave a small laugh, in spite of herself.

What happened to her, what he did for her, was nothing special. He truly did that for everyone.

Was that... good or bad?

Was she bothered by that?

"..."

That half-grimace continued to grace her lips.

_Maybe, a little?_ She thinned her lips as she aimlessly kicked some leaves on the ground this way and that while marching onward. _But, why? He has every right to talk to anyone else._

...

For better or for worse, her mind continued to roam around that subject.

And, before she knew it, she found herself paused on a certain point on the sidewalk, her gaze aimed at the top of the building she stood in front of.

"–Ah."

This was–

"Yo."

She turned her head to see that boy, Touma, walking up toward her, lugging his narrow black randoseru behind his back. "What's up?"

"–Nothing..." she responded in a small voice, feeling her body temperature slightly raising.

Kamijou in turn faced the top of the building she idly gazed upon earlier. "Waiting for someone to come down?"

"–No." She averted her gaze elsewhere. "In fact, I'm not even sure if anyone lives there anymore."

"Oh."

...

"So," he continued, "you know this building?"

"–I guess you could say that."

...

Should she tell him?

That backstory... it was not really a story she shared with anyone else.

To be more precise, she never really had anyone else to casually shoot the breeze with in the first place, but regardless...

Teitoku, Tsuchimikado... such acquaintances she only really knew because of how deeply she was involved in the Dark Side of the Academy City in her youth. As for anyone else, no one could even get near her, never-mind get to talk to her, to get to know her...

Really, she didn't even take time to think about just how much of a loner she was until she met this average boy.

But, even still, was this story something she felt comfortable enough telling? Was it a story she was prepared to bring up at this moment?

...

To be honest, it felt like she was making a lot of exceptions and allowances for this average boy. As to why she did that, well, who knew.

In any case...

"This was an apartment building I used to live in."

Raising his eyebrows, Touma turned his attention back to that building. "I see."

"I live somewhere else now, in another side of the district," Yuriko continued, "but this place... even now it means a lot to me."

Touma maintained his silence, listening.

He wasn't sure if she was going to continue speaking though. It sure took quite some time until she spoke again. She seemed to be in a daze of reminiscence.

But, in the end, she found the words to speak.

"I am a Child Error."

Touma's eyes narrowed in response; he was not particularly comfortable as to the direction this story was going. It was always difficult to determine what sort of attitude he needed to display in response to such revelation of such details.

"I'm gonna be honest with you; I don't even know if my parents are alive or not. I might've been abandoned; who knows."

Was there a hint of bitterness right in the end of that sentence? He couldn't tell.

Neither could she.

"My name, Suzushina Yuriko... that's all I ever got from them." She gave a small shrug. "Didn't really have any parent figures to rely on, I guess. I didn't really feel that I needed anything such, though. But then... I met this man."

She paused, her gaze still upon that apartment building, focused on a certain room within it.

"Kihara Amata. That was... well, is, his name."

...

Touma wasn't really sure as to how to respond to that point of the story. It suddenly became all too personal for him. So she was an orphan... alright. And then she seemed to have found a parental figure... good. So...

...

"So," Touma spoke up. "Where is he now?"

It was then where Yuriko lowered her gaze onto the ground. "I don't know. I'm not even sure if he's alive, to be honest; he just dropped off of the face of the earth."

...

"–Sorry to hear that," Touma scratched the back of his head.

"Being sorry is useless," Yuriko grimaced. "Being sorry is _for those without power._"

...

Okay then.

Kamijou Touma fixed a forced smile on his face as he attempted to choose his next words with some care.

As for Yuriko... her mind roamed through her memories until it settled on a particular one:

* * *

_"Getting such a bleached white hair at such young age of yours..." It was Kihara Amata, sitting behind her, tugging her hair this way and that with his fingers. "What a pitiful young brat you are."_

_"I'll make sure you go bald someday..." Yuriko spat out, with a dull look on her face._

_(Stop tugging on my hair already.)_

* * *

The thin briefcase Yuriko held in her hand just before now collided against the ground. Stooping down, Yuriko sat on the sidewalk, her arms curled around her knees which were now pressing against her chest.

Her beautiful face was now twisted and mired in misery.

Touma's concern now increased twofold. He wasn't prepared for this turn of events.

"Just... leave me like this for now..." Yuriko mumbled, her eyes glazed. "I'll be fine."

"..."

_Nothing else to it, huh._

After a moment of pause, Kamijou Touma set his own briefcase down on the ground, and sat on the sidewalk also, right next to Yuriko.

And she and he, both, sat next to each other for quite some time, just gazing at that building.

He didn't say anything, because he knew that words were not something she needed right now.

...

* * *

An hour or two passed before Yuriko spoke again.

"It was a real pain, trying to get him to take me in." Yuriko gave a faint smile. "He could be a real jackass at times."

Touma, unsure of what response he ought to give at that moment, kept his silence.

"When I first saw him, he went the extra mile to ignore me at first. I guess he caved in the end because he was interested in my powers.

"Back then, no researcher lasted two months with me... they were all unnerved by my powers, or something along those lines. I guess I felt he wouldn't be as gutless like the other researchers, though I don't think research purposes was the main reason as to why I followed him around so much.

"After several weeks passed with him performing his research with me as his subject, I went ahead and asked if I can stay with him... and that was when he was living in this apartment." Yuriko raised her chin toward the building in question they both were sitting in front of. "My excuse was that I felt lonely, with practically all people who knew me avoiding me because of the nature of my powers... well, was I really lonely? I guess so, but it didn't bother me all that much. At least, not back then. 'No' was all he said, and he pretty much meant that. 'No' was his final answer."

"So... how did you persuade him?" Touma asked, in spite of himself.

"I went on a hunger strike."

"..."

"It's pretty hard to continue conducting research with a subject who refuses all food and water." An obstinate light filled her eyes while a faint smile graced her lips.

_Why am I not surprised..._ Here, Touma gave his own half smile, half grimace.

"Then, after that, I asked him if I could call him 'Dad'."

"Bghh!" Touma choked on his non-existent drink.

Yuriko laughed.

It was a light, airy laugh, a laugh that truly suited that beautiful girl.

"He almost crashed the car we were in when that happened. He never really gave his permission... not that it stopped me." She still felt sadness within herself. But, at the very least, her expression of misery was now replaced with a small smile. "The thing about with men like him was that, once you break into that hard exterior of theirs', it becomes progressively easier to bond with them."

_But..._

"But as to the question of why I liked him so much..." Yuriko went on, almost as if sensing Touma's question, "I don't know. I'm not sure. I guess... it was because he looked pretty tough. He had face tattoo. He wouldn't look out of place among the Yakuza. I wanted to be as tough as he was... to be strong as he seemed to be, to learn _power_ from him." Yuriko paused for a bit before continuing. "He could be a real jerk at times though, though I do suppose that such a personality aspect comes in package with being a tough person as he was. Once, while driving, I asked if we could get something at WcDonalds..."

* * *

_That was when she saw it._

_The Golden Arch, symbolizing those junk food that her young mind craved so much._

_"Dad," Yuriko turned to Amata, "could we get WcDonalds?"_

_"–We have food at home," Amata grunted._

_"But food at home isn't WcDonalds," Yuriko pointed out this obvious fact with supreme gravity._

_Amata was about to shut down her request, but then a devilish idea entered his head. Suddenly he swerved his car, dangerously cutting across the road and entering the drive-thru._

_Yuriko, stunned by this unexpected development, watched in amazement as Amata ordered... a single espresso, took the drink, and sped away from the restaurant._

_Silence reigned in the vehicle._

_To Amata, this was merely yet another opportunity to test Yuriko's personality... with his mind constantly set toward science, Amata took this opportunity to experiment with Yuriko's character. How would she react now to this sort of unexpected screwball?_

_But she was **silent**. She displayed no anger on her face; her mood appeared to be the same as before this had occurred. When they got home, she made no fuss when told to get off the car; she took no rebellious action._

_Amata, suffice to say, was nonplussed by this. Such lack of reaction was not what he was expecting._

_But, as couple of days went by, he felt that he made some sort of error in his calculations, perhaps. Yuriko made absolute zero change in her mood, attitude, expression, or all else for days on end beginning from that day. Not hot, not cold, just... frigid, like a princess made of ice._

_This went on for days on end._

_It definitely was not every day for Amata to be actually unnerved by someone... but this little girl was definitely something else, he concluded._

* * *

"He eventually bought me a happy meal sometime after that," Yuriko announced with a triumphant smile on her face.

_...Yep, sounds like her, alright,_ Touma gave an awkward smile in response.

...

Yuriko, having Touma to talk to, seemed almost back to her normal mood.

However, there still was one piece of information missing from this story.

Kamijou Touma personally had no wish to learn of her past in the first place. But he still respected her decision to tell him about it nevertheless. And he could see it in her face that she was still gathering her thoughts on that last part of her story, on as to why she was not with that scientist anymore. If she needed someone to share her past with, he didn't have it in him to prematurely free himself from this conversation just yet.

And, to be honest, he was a bit curious himself, as well.

"I don't know why it all ended, to be honest," Yuriko shrugged, a hint of disdain on her face. "Just... one day, out of the blue, he told me to leave, that he and I are not to see each other again." Yuriko grimaced. "And that was that. I never saw him again."

"..."

They both continued to sit there, gazing upon that apartment.

Until nightfall.

* * *

postimg(period)cc(slash)KkPt2J7g


End file.
